


And the Dead shall Inherit the Earth

by flurblewig



Category: Angel The Series
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-16
Updated: 2010-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-06 08:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flurblewig/pseuds/flurblewig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU  S5.  The First had a plan all along...</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Dead shall Inherit the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of major character death.

10...

He coughs, and spits up blood onto the floor. He's not sure what hurts more - the pain screaming along the nerve endings of his broken body, or the knowledge that it was Spike who did this to him. The knowledge that Spike _won_.

He looks up, sees that familiar mocking smile, and something in him turns hard. Hard and brittle enough to shatter.

__

Not yet. You haven't beaten me yet.

He reaches into his pocket and feels for what he knows is in there. What is always in there. The amulet. The amulet that ties Spike here. The amulet that lets him be here at all.

__

If you smash it, Wesley had said, _ well, that's it. It's game over as far as Spike is concerned_.

He pulls the amulet out, holds it up so that Spike can see it. The taunting confidence on Spike's face melts away, and he freezes. Everything freezes.

Everything except Angel's hand, which comes up, almost of its own accord, and then smashes down.

The amulet hits the ground with a crack loud enough to be a gunshot. It breaks apart - no, more like _explodes_ apart - in his hand. Spike lets out a long, shuddering cry and throws his head back in what looks like agony. Angel watches, transfixed, as he begins to glow. Bright orange light bursts out of Spike's chest, lighting up the room like sunrise. Eventually Angel has to shield his eyes, and as he looks away the light snaps off.

When he look back, Spike -

Spike hasn't gone. Hasn't dusted, disappeared or gone to hell. Hasn't done any of the things Wesley thought he would do when the amulet was destoyed. Spike is still standing there, the grin even wider. He leans down and hauls Angel to his feet, and the grinding together of a chestful of broken ribs forces a hissing sigh of pain from between Angel's bleeding lips.

"Well done, mate," says Spike. "It took you a while, but never mind. We got there in the end. I always knew you wouldn't let me down."

"Spike - what- "

"I'm glad, you know, that it wasn't you - that she didn't pick you to wear the amulet. I mean, it wouldn't have made any difference to the outcome, 'cos I'm damn sure I could've made him do the same thing to you, but - well, he was just so much _cooler_ than you, wasn't he?

Angel watches Spike run a hand sensually down his body. No wonder that little slut of a Slayer couldn't resist him." The wandering hand reaches down to the undeniable bulge in the front of Spike's jeans, caressing it. "Yeah, I'm happy. I was getting so sick of the formless evil gig that really I'd have taken any body I could get my hands on, but this isn't going to be a bad way to spend eternity at all."

9...

__

Should've known better.

It's all he can say, all he can think.

__

Should've known better.

The others try to comfort him, try to help; try to share the blame. He won't let them do any of those things. It wasn't their fault, it was his. He was the one who knew the score, knew what The First was capable of. He was the one who'd given in to it last time, too. Allowed it to beat him, to out-think him. He'd been saved that time, but - well, you couldn't expect your useless ass to keep being hauled out of the shit, could you?

At least then, it had only been his own existence on the line. Now - but no. He can't think about how many people he's doomed to death this time.

He'd got complacent, he can see that now. He'd been too certain of his own abilities, his own judgement. Too certain, God help him, of Buffy. Too certain that her plan was the right one, that he could rely on her to save the day this time like she always had before. Too certain that when she'd called to say it was over, that the First was beaten, she was right.

__

Should've known better.

8...

Wolfram and Hart employ psychics to bring their CEO the news, but it doesn't take long for the ordinary methods to start catching up with them. The television reports are a little vague, at first; they run confused stories of riots, of disease and drug abuse, of criminal gangs. The authorities still have some sort of control, then. Or at least, they think they do.

The more outlandish elements begin to filter through after the first week. Eyewitnesses tell of indestructible assailants, of bodies flying through the air with rounds and rounds of police bullets in them, then getting up and laughing and coming back for more.

Victims begin to recognise these strange marauders - they're neighbours, or loved ones, or friends and family members. People they thought were dead. People they _know_ were dead.

In London, a prominent politician has a heart attack while giving a speech on live broadcast. The cameras keep rolling, showing the bewildered paramedics pronounce him dead, despite the fact that he's still shouting at them about taking too long to arrive.

In Texas, a murderer is executed. When the doctor comes in to make the confirmation, the dead man attacks him and escapes, killing two guards on the way. Those guards then get up and finish off the doctor.

In hospitals all over the world, people die. But they don't lie down.

Gradually, the news programmes start to go off the air. Angel still gets his reports, though.

In Rome, a twenty-two year-old girl tries to protect her sister from a gang of what are universally being described, even by scientists, as zombies. Five to one, she could deal with. Ten to one, even. But thirty, forty? It's too much, even for her. She goes down, and when she gets back up she doesn't fight them any more.

7...

"Angel? Angel, is that you? It's Willow. I'm with Giles and Xander. It's - oh god, Angel - it's Buffy, she - she -"

"I know."

"Kennedy's dead. And Dawn. And Andrew. Angel, what are we going to do? We don't know what to do. We thought Giles would - but he, he - it's too much for him, Angel. They come back, you know that, right? Buffy - I mean the thing, the thing that looks like Buffy - she won't leave him alone. It's killing him, and we don't - we don't know how to fight it. I'm scared, Angel. I don't - I keep looking for Tara, and I don't think I could stand it."

"Hey, is that my girl? My Red? Give her my regards, eh? Couldn't have done it without her."

"Angel? What was that?"

"That was Spike, Willow. Well, not him, but - you know."

"You mean - it got Spike? Oh, that's - "

"No. It _was_ Spike. Ever since he came back."

"What?"

"Oh, gimme that. You never were a storyteller, were you? Haven't got an ounce of poetry in you. Hey, Willow? How's it going?"

"Who - who -"

"Oh, come on now. You've had the pleasure of my acquaintance before. From beneath you, it devours? Don't tell me you've forgotten that already. I was so proud of that one. Thought it was catchy. Anyway pet, just really wanted to pass on my thanks. Totally couldn't have got the, you know, devouring in motion without you and the big lug here. You played a blinder."

"What do you - I don't understand, I - "

"Fuck, you people can just be so dense, sometimes. You never heard of the concept of balance? Ripples in the pond, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction? Come on, this must be ringing a bell. You went to school, right? Magic, physics, whatever - it's all pretty much the same. When you did your trick with the scythe, you spread the power, right? Gifted the slayer's line with a share of the source. Nifty. 'Cept the Slayer power was never designed to be shared - that was kinda the point. It upset the balance. And the Universe likes to right itself, you know?"

"You mean what we did - what I did -"

"By Jove, I think she's got it. Yeah, pet, what you did opened the door for me to do the same. All I needed was an opposite to the lovely fluffy share-the-love thing you had going for you - and that's where my man here came in. He's not the sharing type, in case you hadn't noticed. Another vampire with a soul, another hero on his turf? He just couldn't stand it. He didn't want to give, he wanted to take away. So he smashed my amulet - you remember that? Shiny little thing, absorbed the power of a few hundred thousand Turok-Han? Yeah, that's the one. So when Angel destroyed the amulet, it - well, it gave me the chance to gift my line with a share of the source too. So now me and my dead, we're just one big, happy family. One big touchy, feely, happy family."

"Oh god - oh god, Angel - I - "

"Well pet, don't let me keep you. Now that you're up to speed I'm sure you'll have plenty to do, getting ready for all the visitors you've got coming. I'll see you soon, yeah? Oh, and say hi to Warren for me. Always had a soft spot for him, I did."

"Wha - Warren? Oh no, I - what? What was that? Xander? Oh fuck, oh fuck, get it away from me! Angel, help me, help -"

\- click -

6...

The sound of the fight brings everybody running. Angel gets to the door before it can be concluded with lethal force - although from the looks of what's left of his security team, it probably wouldn't have been them doing the concluding.

"Stand down," he says. "Fisher, Roberts - I said stand _down_. It's all right. She's human, and I know her."

Eventually the guards obey, and move back. Their opponent lands one final roundhouse punch, laying Fisher flat on the floor. Then she whirls on Angel.

"What the _fuck_?"

He spreads his hands, shows her he's not armed. "Sorry, Faith. Security are a little jumpy these days. I'm sure you understand why."

"That'd be because of the thing where the whole world's turning into a George Romero film, huh? Yeah, I'm with the programme."

She brushes herself down, aims a last contemptuous kick at the prostrate Fisher, then steps over his body towards Angel.

"So, what's the deal? How'd this happen?"

"I don't know."

"Liar."

"Okay. It was my fault. This whole thing is my fault. Is that what you wanted to hear, Faith? Does that make you feel better?"

"Yeah, actually it does. Because if you know something about how this happened, then you know enough for us to work out how to stop it. "

He turns away. "I don't know how to stop this, Faith. I don't have any answers for you."

"Fuck that," she says, and spins him round to face her. "You're not giving up. You're going to fight, Angel. _We're_ going to fight. And we're going to win."

She looks at him squarely, chin up, hands curled into fists. There's no fear in this girl, never was. For a second he feels something that is almost hope.

It doesn't last.

5...

"Are you sure this is the only way?"

Fred rubs at her eyes. They look bloodshot, and he wonders how long it's been since she's slept. Since any of them have slept.

"No, Angel, I'm not sure. I'm not sure it's even _a_ way. I'm not sure about anything any more."

"Do we even know where the scythe is?"

"No, we don't. We don't know where it is, or what kind of magic Willow used to activate it, or how to reverse that magic. We don't even know if the First was telling us the truth about it being involved. But it's all I've got, Angel. Nothing else has worked, nothing. Every time someone dies, they - become one of them. Nothing I have tried can stop it. Even the vampires - you stake one, and it reappears out of the dust just as good as new. _Better_ than new. Stronger, shinier and way more cost-effective, thanks to that special First Evil upgrade."

Faith throws a beaker of liquid at the wall. It shatters, and they all jump. "Well we've gotta do _something_," she says. I can't stand being cooped up in here. If this it, if we're going out, then I want to go out fighting. Not cowering inside Wolfram and fucking Hart."

She looks at both of them, face set. "If the Slayers caused the problem, then that's where we focus. And if we can't get the power back out of them, then we kill them."

Fred stares at her. "What? Faith, are you -"

"Nuts? Yeah, probably. But you tell me, brains - what the fuck else are we going to do?"

"But killing the Slayers - Faith, what's that going to achieve? They'll just become part of the First then, they'll be zombies."

"Well yeah - that's kind of the point. They'll be zombies, not Slayers. Look, I'm just thinking that if having too many Slayers is what's caused this, then maybe we need to get back to just having one. One _live_ one. Not me, it doesn't have to be me, I don't care - but whoever it is, just one. Maybe that will - I don't know, break the spell or something. If we can just stop any new zombies being made, it'll give us breathing space. Maybe enough to work out how to kill the ones we've already got."

"Oh, bravo," says a voice from the doorway. Faith grits her teeth. "Not you again. I told you to fuck off."

The man Angel has learned is - was - called Robin steps through the lab doorway. Angel watches Fred push the panic button under her desk, but no guards come storming in. He isn't sure if they have any guards left at all, now. Certainly there don't seem enough to stop this one apparently being able to wander wherever he likes.

"Isn't she the feisty one?" says Robin. "Killing all the slayers, mmm mmm. Wonderful idea. So -" he pauses and affects a shiver, smiling. "So bloodthirsty. You can see why we always wanted her on our side, can't you?"

He walks closer to Faith. "Come on, baby. You know you want to be back with me. Back where you belong. It doesn't have to hurt. All you've got to do is let go. Take that lovely knife of yours, open a vein and then we can dance all night. You'll be happy, Faith. We'll have fun."

She doesn't turn. "I said fuck off."

"I miss you."

She moves then, spinning and landing a kick that sends the man - thing - flying into the wall. It laughs. "You're not ready, I get that. But you could've just said you had a headache, you know."

"Fuck. Off."

"Okay, okay. Jeez. You were never that good a lay, anyway. I only took up with you 'cos Buffy was always too busy with Spike to give me a look in." He winks at Angel. "Mind you, we're making up for lost time now."

Angel closes his eyes. "I think the lady told you to leave."

It laughs again. "I think the _whore_ told me to leave, but hey. Can't hang around here chatting with you crazy kids all day, anyway. Places to go, people to kill, you know how it is."

Angel and Faith exchange looks as the thing walks out of the room. Yeah, they know. They know all too well.

4...

She comes to him just before the sunrise, and he holds out his arms to her.

"I'm not a whore," she says. He nods, and holds her close while she cries.

3...

He used to love standing in his office, bathing vicariously in the glow of the sun through the magically-treated glass. Watching the people outside, going about their normal daily business.

There are no people outside any more.

He turns round again, and looks at the girl standing in front of his desk. She's filthy, dressed in rags and covered in cuts and bruises. She looks about fourteen years old.

"What's your name?" he asks, and draws a frown from Faith. He wasn't supposed to ask that. Wasn't supposed to think of her as human. She's just a means to an end, that's all.

"Louise," she says. "But my mom calls me Lulu."

He looks at Faith, and he sees in her eyes what's always been in his heart. They can't do this.

Faith steps forward, and puts her jacket over the shivering girl's shoulders. "It's okay, Lulu," she says. "You're safe here."

She looks sick as she says it, as if the lie is choking her, but he doesn't offer any contradiction. Let this little Slayer have some comfort, if there is any left to be had.

They give the girl something to eat, and Faith moves to stand by his side.

"Well," she says. "Looks like Plan F fell through after all. On to Plan G, huh?"

Angel says nothing.

"You know, I think maybe we should let Fred pick Plan G. My ideas don't seem so hot."

"I haven't seen Fred for two days. Not since you left to get the girl."

Faith looks down. "Oh."

It's not strictly true; he did see her, with Wesley. They were covered in blood and laughing, holding hands as they walked out of the building into the empty streets. He's seen all of them: Gunn, Lorne, Cordelia.

Connor.

He's seen more than he ever wanted to see.

They stand in silence for a while, watching the fires over the city. Eventually, Faith nods slowly. "It's over, isn't it? We lost."

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I think we did."

2...

She comes to him before the sunrise as usual, but this time she doesn't cry.

"Hello lover," she says. "Wanna have some fun? I'm so bored with all the doom and gloom round here."

She pouts when he puts the crossbow bolt through her chest, then pulls it out slowly and wipes the blood on his sheets. "That wasn't very nice, was it?"

She moves forward, and he sees she has a stake in her hand. She twirls it when she notices him looking.

"Aren't you tired?" she asks. "Aren't you just so totally dog-tired of the whole thing? It's over, Angel. You said so yourself. Let it go, already. We're all still here, you know. Buffy, Spike, Wes - we're all here, waiting for you. Don't you want us any more? Don't you want to just stop fighting?"

He grabs her wrist, and pulls the stake out of her hand. She steps back and watches him, a smile on her face.

1...

Angel raises the stake to his chest. "Have fun, Angelus," he says quietly, and slams it home.

\- End -


End file.
